DFH Volume 1 Issue 2

By Camilla Luckey

Sometime between 1979 and 1981 my father, Charles Dayton, brought my piano, the heaviest old upright anybody ever touched and given to me by a widow-admirer of my dad , one of many, decades earlier to me in Alexandria, Virginia, from upstate NY. He pulled it south in his car trailer, arriving in a rainstorm. Our front door was seven or eight steps above city sidewalk level, and there was only my father, my husband, and myself to hoist it quickly, out of the  lashing rain and city traffic.  Mainly, due to Dad’s prowess, the “three” of us got it into the living room.